


No Condoms In Space

by Lempo Soi (Lemposoi)



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Intersexuality, M/M, Mpreg, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-11
Updated: 2011-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:05:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemposoi/pseuds/Lempo%20Soi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During his many incarnations, Ace Rimmer has left behind a number of biological children he never heard about. He did not expect to find one on the Starbug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Condoms In Space

**Author's Note:**

> Note #1: Diverges from canon during "Dimension Jump" but is set during "Stoke Me a Clipper", sort of.  
> Note #2: Oh shit, I seem to be writing a series of Red Dwarf AU baby fics. Help.

The boy was looking up at Ace with the unconscious evaluating gaze of young children. His skin was pale tan, his dark hair was pulled back in neat lines of corn rows, and his nostrils flared out in a way that looked all too familiar.

Ace swallowed. "And who might you be, young man?" he asked jovially. He had a feeling he already knew the answer, as crazy as it was.

Lister was standing two steps behind the boy, looking everywhere but at Ace. "He's shy," he said at last. "Go on, Billy."

"Pleased to meet you," Billy said mechanically and offered his hand. Ace shook it.

The boy seemed to expect more, but Lister said, "Go on, get away with you, kid," and Billy ran up the stairs, disappearing into the hallway like a fox into a hole. They were standing in the room that doubled as the Starbug's dining room and command central. A doorway lead to the control room where Ace knew his double was sulking by the navigation screen, away from sight and pretending not to listen.

"How--" Ace began, thought better of it and coughed. "I mean, he seems like a fine lad."

"He's a good kid," Lister said, no longer avoiding his eye. "Look, it was an accident, man, I didn't know and you couldn't've known. It's not something I ever expected to spring on you. Didn't know you'd ever be back."

"So he really is m--" Ace frowned, not quite able to be the first to say it. "I thought he might be--"

"Rimmer's? How? He's a hologram, man."

 _So am I these days_ , Ace thought, but he hadn't let that on yet, and there was a time for everything. He rallied around. "Listen, Skipper," he said, digging in his pocket for his cigars, "I'm not quite sure I've got a proper grip on this yet. Looks like what you've got there is a child with a certain Skipper-like quality and a certain quality of yours truly. I don't mind saying that using any genetic material I might have left behind in some Frankenstein scenario without telling me would’ve been a rotten trick--"

"I didn't exactly--"

"But I know you, Skipper. You're a good one. So tell me your side of the story."

"Right. Well, you better sit down, Ace." Lister indicated a seat by the table. Ace would have preferred to stand, but pulled up a chair anyway.

As soon as Ace had materialized near the Starbug an hour ago he had downloaded all of the first Ace’s memories of this version of its crew. Like all 'meat memories' they weren't nearly as sharp and well-defined as events recorded by his hologrammatic selves, but while he may have forgotten details, he did quite distinctly remember leaving behind, er, genetic material. It had all been rather a hurried and drunken affair, though if he was honest he – or rather, the first Ace in his continuum – hadn't been as drunk as he'd let on. Not all Aces were strictly butter-side-up people, as he'd learned, and Lister's tongue had made a convincing argument for experimentation. Ace figured the chap had been lonely and horny for a very long time. It had been practically an act of kindness. He was quite sure, however, that there had been no turkey basters or uterine replicators involved, and that if Lister was anything but a cissexual male, his surgeon must have been phenomenal.

"What I never got around to telling you is I've had sons," Lister began. "I mean, I had sons before we ever met. Two of them, twins. You see, some time before you first showed up, Holly slapped together something he called a Holly Hop Drive..."

Ace listened, fascinated, to the unlikely tale of a senile computer putting together a dimension travel drive so much like the Wildfire's, and listened with dawning comprehension as Lister went on to describe his pregnancy and the subsequent loss of his sons. Midway through, Kryten bustled in with a tea tray and a beer for Lister, served the drinks and joined them.

"We thought that was it," Lister concluded. "I mean, it wasn't like me body looked any different. No way did I ever think it could happen again."

"I see," Ace managed. "You remained, what's the word?"

"Intersex," Kryten said, offering Ace a sugar for his tea, which he declined. "Fascinating, isn't it? It turns out that in the alternate universe where Mr Lister engaged in coitus with his female self, a tube running parallel to the urethra in the penile shaft absorbs semen produced by the female reproductive system when aroused, which then travels via his orgasmic contractions into the womb. All it takes is sufficient exposure. Somehow, when Mr Lister returned to our dimension, his pregnancy prevented his body from reverting back to reflect the conventions of our universe, though it turned out a Caesarean was necessary because he never developed a birth canal such as the males of--"

"I get the picture," Ace said in a hurry, and wished he'd been quicker about it.

"So it was all an accident, you see," Lister concluded. "Not that I'd give Billy back now. He's me son."

"If you didn't want to get pregnant again, Lister, you shouldn't have been such a tart," came Rimmer's unmistakable nasal tones from the control room. "Honesty, the first flash of a reflective coat and you forget all about that boring old heterosexuality thing."

Ace felt his blood boil. He was a patient man, but he was already half out of his chair before he had time to make a conscious decision to put his foot up that worm's arse, fatal wound or no fatal wound.

Lister stopped him with a hand. "Leave it, Ace! Honestly, relax. He's being a smeghead, but he's just jealous. Aren't you, sweetie?" Lister made kissy noises towards the control room.

Rimmer appeared in the doorway at last. He looked much the same as Ace remembered him, with just a different uniform and a slightly different H – the same look of indignation, the thatch of brown curls and aura of arrogance, anger and fear. He pointed a shaking finger at them. "Lister, I swear to God--"

"C'mon, come here," Lister said and patted the chair next to him.

Ace was merely surprised to see his double drop the pointing finger and walk docilely to Lister's side, but he was downright astonished to see Lister pull him down and kiss him briefly on the mouth.

"Well," said Ace as Lister's gaze met his again. "Things have certainly changed around here, haven't they?"

It all fit, though, clicking together like pieces of a puzzle. The two had definitely not been an item back when the first Ace met them, but latent feelings would account for Rimmer slinging homophobic slurs at Ace. While not a perfect guarantee, knowing that the apparently heterosexual object of your same-sex affection had slept with your exact physical duplicate could well have tempted even a man as complex as Arnold J. Rimmer to put a foot out of the closet, and the rest, it appeared, was history. No accounting for Lister’s taste, Ace supposed, but he wasn’t one to judge.

Rimmer was glaring at Ace, his arm slung possessively around Lister. "As far as I'm concerned you can turn around and go right back where you came from," he said. "There's nothing for you here. If you cared for any of it, you could have stayed all those years ago."

"As if you wouldn't have tripped him into an airlock within a week, love." Lister chuckled and lit a cigarette.

The pain in Ace's side was beginning to radiate down his right arm, now. It was only a matter of time before he’d wink out. He wasn't sure how many hours he had left, but he did know what the right thing to do was, and Ace never hesitated when it came to the right thing.

He rose to his feet slowly to avoid wincing. "Well, I had best be on my way. You two seem to have everything sorted out here."

"Quite," Rimmer said disdainfully.

"I'd apologize for the inconvenience if it didn't seem so much like a blessing. I would be proud to call Billy my son, but I can see that's a title that needs to be earned." He gave his double a deep and penetrating look, which the man seemed to resent even more than he generally resented Ace's entire existence. It didn't stop Ace trying. He held his hand out to him. "Congratulations."

"If you think that I--" Rimmer started, and stopped abruptly. Ace hadn’t seen Lister nudge him under the table, but he did see the quick glance they exchanged. Rimmer snorted, but reluctantly reached out to shake Ace's hand before turning away. Ace exchanged a look, a shrug and a smile with Lister.

"Oh, must you go, sir?" Kryten asked. "It would be no trouble setting another plate for dinner."

"I'm afraid so, old friend," Ace said. "The future waits for no-one." Rimmer snorted at that, but Ace ignored it and turned towards the stairs. He had the Wildfire waiting by the airlock.

"We'll keep those kippers ready for you," Lister called after him, and Ace saluted him as he walked out. Electricity sparkled under his coat.

The boy Billy was dangling his feet on top of a spare engine parts container by the airlock. "All right, Ace?" he called out as Ace approached.

"All right, Billy," Ace said, giving the boy who was technically his son a thorough, searching look. The light bee stored the information, though it may have skipped a few frames of video as its resources rerouted to control the damage.

Billy jumped off the container and dug around in a pocket of his oversized combat vest, finally offering Ace a miniature of the Starbug.

"Thank you," Ace said, examining it. It had some bitemarks, but it was not bad work.

"Are you the one, then?" Billy asked.

"The one what?" Ace asked.

"You know." Billy looked down. "My other dad."

"No," Ace said firmly. "But you are a part of me, too." He gave the boy a manly shoulder-squeeze and got punched on the arm companionably. He ignored the pain, handed the boy one of the medals he'd shoved into his coat pocket, and headed out the airlock.

The computer spoke up as Ace climbed into the Wildfire. "The Rimmer didn't want to go?"

"I didn't ask," Ace answered as he strapped himself in with a grunt.

"Oh, Ace," the computer said, her voice regretful. "This is the third one."

"One more," Ace breathed, and gritted his teeth for the jump, which sucked him into the bone-crushing pressure of the space between dimensions.


End file.
